Giant Space Monster Dogora (1964) Movie Thoughts

Light and fluffy diamond caper? Fantasy film with an identity crisis? Or Ishiro Honda just milking the best out of a sorry excuse for a vacation? It's the kind of juggling act my mind performs while watching this mid-1960s offering by the kaiju master himself. More of an attempt by Toho to stretch a little outside the by-then familiar landscape of giant monsters and modeled mayhem, we have what is a mostly weird affair involving jewel thieves, the able police in hot pursuit, and a wily westerner as a mineral-hungry alien menace threatens to usurp the earth of its precious resources. Even as the opening scenes grant us promise of invasion by massive crystalline blue jellyfish, a great deal of the film's running time is centered on a chase for stolen diamonds. And as both films seemed destined to collide in some important manner, one may assume that Honda and Co. have under their sleeves a thematic sucker punch lying in wait. But sadly, this is something that never comes halfway to fruition as Dogora flounders about in search of a cohesive whole. And yet despite all this, there is a sweet attempt at making something totally unusual for the often workhorsed Honda that allows the final product to feel like a mild departure.



Not content with calling it Diamond Eating Space Squids, Dogora kind of fails to come through on nearly all it offers(but not without being a peek at something the celebrated monster filmmaker seemed eager to explore). As a japanese satellite is destroyed in orbit by a glowing blue alien force, a local chapter of organized diamond thieves find themselves at the center of an aggressive investigation. Both antagonists seemingly driven by a lust for nature's jewels, the conflicts on both land and space inevitably converge as scientists and police find themselves increasingly in over their heads.



As head Inspector Kommei (Yosuke Natsuki) and team find themselves inching closer towards understanding a bungled heist, he is almost continuously foiled by foreign interloper, Mark Jackson(played to fun effect by Robert Dunham, who seemed primed to get this character off the ground, and into a series of Jackson adventures that never happened), a mysterious, seeming thief with hidden plans and a wily disposition. While a great deal of the film touts the appearance of some truly unique alien effects and the requisite Eiji Tsuburaya magic complete with terrific model work and panicking crowds, the majority of the film is earthbound, with Kommei, and Jackson often butting heads against each other as they take on the diamond thieving gangsters. And while we do get some mild idea of what makes the gangsters tick, we never gain much of anything about the aliens enough to be compelled by any of that half of this particular mix.



On the whole, Honda and crew seem to be having a great deal of fun at least tinkering with genre outside the usual. There is even a scene here that evokes thoughts of some of the more zany early Bond adventures. Colorful and ready to take on a more caper tale, Dogora feels hobbled by a need to be this lumbering two-headed beast with little or no core focus. While one can see the eerie floating invertebrate giants in the sky as a metaphor for foreign interests, delving too greedily in the resources of other nations, it is often undermined by the film's greater lack of equilibrium. The creatures are well presented, but to what aim? As a result, the final product is this occasionally enjoyable, but ultimately minor entry in the career of one of the defining voices of monster cinema.

So in all, this space invader saga is a bit of a dud. A real shame, too as it does boast some fun images, characters and ideas. Perhaps a project that required more time to cook in the development, Dogora is Saturday matinee fodder that plays not unlike a trailer that goes on and on, never settling on a main hook or tag line. Had Honda and crew been granted a full chance to take on a more down to earth caper film, it is possible that we could have more than just a curious footnote. But alas.. 

Criterion's Godzilla Release Is Here!

What are you doing, reading this post? Unless you haven't picked up your copy of Criterion's much anticipated release of Ishiro Honda's unrivaled classic, I'm not sure there's much of anything for you to see here since I still need to get my hands on one. Regardless, word regarding this wholly new treatment has been wildly enthusiastic (try even this USA Today piece featuring some glowing words by August Ragone). And since the film itself remains one of the most formative moments in the lives of many film lovers the world over, what more enticement do you need?

Questioning Escapism

If there has been anything positive about being without sufficient work at the time, it has been an ability to take another look at several films with renewed eyes. Particularly after reading a pretty good little book on the subject - Mushroom Clouds And Mushroom Men by Peter H. Brothers, something I'll definitely delve into more on these pages in the near future. Combine this with my own internal notions regarding pop culture, particularly film's divide between sheer escapism, and a viewer's wish for actual catharsis, one can take another view of these works as something of a conundrum. How does one write for a blog centering on some of the most left-field, escapist-like fare, and not drive one's self crazy in the process? There is a simple answer to this. One I hope more "geek-media bloggers" take into account when talking fantasy & genre works.  So when it came time to take in another viewing session of 1964's Three Giant Monsters - The Greatest Battle On Earth (also known in the states as Ghidrah: The Three Headed Monster) it should come as little surprise that aside from the superb work on display by Honda, Tsuburaya & crew, it's still a middling mashup of Dogora, featuring a cool monster fight at the end. For most, this was the big shark-jumping turning point for the Gojira franchise, and it's hard to not see why.

By this point, it only made sense to take the nuclear nightmare metaphor, and chuck it for what the public seemed ready to embrace, Gojira as hero. And what better adversary could there be than a three-headed dragon from space? After ten years, perhaps TOHO and the public were ready to make off with their cathartic sides, and just break out the monster in a manner that would see him as a reluctant representative of humanity. Perhaps my favorite moment in the film involves humans asking the diminutive Shobijin (Yumi & Emi Ito - PEANUTS) to translate a crucial discussion between Radon, Gojira, and Mothra - one that could rouse all three monsters to join forces against the dangerously powerful Ghidorah. Upon pleading with Gojira to join the cause, his response is to the effect that humans aren't worth helping because they "always bully him". It is this one silly scene that somehow cements the film as an important moment in the series, as it is that rare moment where the audience is directly privy to what the usually punchy monster thinks of the human race he has suddenly been tasked with defending. By giving Gojira a relatable voice, as is the public's view of such calamity in the real world.

I continue to stand by the notion that the very best genre has to offer carries within them some tether to very real concerns and emotions. When discussions arise regarding wishes that stories could remain almost strictly outside the realms of reality, one cannot help but wonder where it comes from, especially when the public tolerance for story logic and reason have reached fever pitch in recent years. Possibly as backlash from years of being inundated with works that continuously wink and nudge the audience with a general attitiude of "Kid with us..You don't really buy into any of this, do you?" By the 1980s, films had shunned camp for the most part, and substituted it with over the top sensibilities, which do have their charms. But such as storytelling trends change, the constant has always been some semblance of the real, and how it pertains to daily life. From another take on the "Hero's Journey" or even a simple horror tale, nothing works like carefully considered stories, and multidimensional characters. Without them, all we are looking at is fanciful art for its own sake. (which in it's own way have their charms, just not in many ways that engross me, or inspire discussion deeper than what manner of model work was used here, or CG texture modeling there.)


If the story cannot connect beyond the artifice, then the artifice becomes the reason for being.

So when I read tweets, or blog updates, or even Facebook posts bemoaning the idea that films offering less than comfortable emotions, it begs the question of why one watches what one does. And while disagreement is encouraged and the very essence of a free society, one cannot help but wonder how it comes to be that certain questions, emotions, themes are considered verboten in lieu of tropes, cliches, and expected outcomes. Again, this is obviously speaking completely from a subjective viewpoint, but if catharsis is to be avoided, then what function does art serve in that respect?

Suddenly..."moe" begins to make all the strangest sense in the world.

When Co-Productions Attack!: Latitude Zero (1969)

 

Ooohboy...

One of the core ideas behind the creation of The Wandering Kaijyu has been the exploration of pop culture's seemingly endlessly subterranean fascination with one of my childhood obsessions, the Japanese tokusatsu fantasy realm. Something that many readers may have approached these pages, only to be disappointed that I have only scratched the surface of this topic. So perhaps it's best to come out here, and admit that while I love the stuff, there's a great gulf of material that I have either never had the time to explore, or ability to obtain it. Also, knowing that the internet has an already solid army of authorities on the worlds of Japanese genre film, it only felt natural that this blog be something more of a celebration of multiple obsessions, hopefully in the name of all-inclusiveness in a sphere that at times seems destined to sequester films/comics/artists of this ilk into their own designated cubbies.


So when Japanese studios occasionally delve into working alongside their western counterparts, I like to take a little time to chart the history of this often uneven, weird relationship. Sadly, when these projects take place, the end result is more often than not a tonally compromised work complete with awkward performances by at-times former Hollywood luminaries looking for a paycheck, or even some primed for some kind of international recognition. Some that come to mind include several Kinji Fukasaku films The Green Slime ( Ganma Daisan Go: Ushu Daisakusen - 1968), (Tora!Tora!Tora! - 1970), Message From Space(Uchu Kara No Messeji-1978), Virus (Fukkatsu No Hi - 1980). And this isn't to say that there haven't been some memorable works to come from these arrangements, many of the mentioned Fukasaku films contain a charm to them that transcend their limits. Among some of the non-Fukasaku productions that still hold a place in my heart is Masato Harada's GUNHED (1989), which despite being a bit of a derivative snore, contains some at-times impressive art design and concepts. But any way one slices it, east-west productions such as these have something of a checkered past, and cast a huge light on the cultural and spiritual rift that exists between both filmmaking styles.

Which is made quite clear in the small number of projects that occurred during the latter days of the swingin' 1960s, when Toho's already distinguished genre pioneer Ishiro Honda took on Ted Sherdeman's 1940s radio serial, Latitude Zero, to almost completely disastrous results.

Which leads me to a bit of a big confession, I had heard of this film years ago, but never had the fortune of experiencing it for myself. Now having seen it, perhaps it would be bad form to ever regret seeing it, but it was certainly difficult to get through an almost kidney-punching 105 minutes of film that felt more on par with any number of early MST3K experiments. While that at times can imply a certain amount of enjoyment, do not be misled; this is Mighty Jack without the charm. Would it not have been well-documented that the film was a troubled production from the getgo, it is likely that I would have been ready to hit the mute button just to experience the last science fiction FX work of visual giant, Eiji Tsuburaya (who fell ill during the making, leaving much of his crew to pick up the slack. He passed away soon after.).

So the story (Um..yeah) of Latitude Zero is essentially the finale of a longstanding battle between two behemoths of the superscience ilk. On the good guy corner is Captain Craig Mackenzie (played to the manly gills by an aging Joseph Cotten), helmsman of the supersubmarine, the Alpha-gou, alongside his crew of..two? And in the red corner, continuing his endless efforts to destroy Mackenzie and his undersea utopia located at (you guessed it...Latitude Zero) is the nefarious Dr. Malic (aka - Dr. Murderer, played by Cesar Romero!!) and his pouty lover, Lucretia (played by Patricia Medina). We are brought center stage to this protracted conflict via our audience surrogates in a trio including scientist, Dr. Ken Tashiro (Akira Takarada), fellow oceanographer, Jules Masson (Masumi Okada), and journalist, Perry Lawton (Richard Jaeckal). Rescued after a nearby volcanic eruption's concussive force knocks over the bathysphere the three were aboard on a research mission, the three are suddenly aboard the Alpha, and treated to the wonders beneath the ocean, and to the ongoing battle: scarves & open chest shirts Vs. flowing gowns with capes-er, good and evil. The revelation is that Mackenzie and Malic have been dueling it out for reasons unclear for nearly two centuries. And as Malic continues utilizing the commandeer abilities of one female Captain Kuroi(Hikaru Kuroki) via The Black Shark to end the Alpha once and for all, his plans to kidnap reknowned scientist, Dr. Okada and procure the secret to his latest breakthrough are moving forward with haste, leading to what could only be an ultimate showdown.

                                                                     


And despite all the words used in the last paragraph, there is no depth beyond any of this as the film careens from point to point without rhyme or reason. While it can all be considered childlike, there also seems to be a deep lack of energy to the proceedings to balance out matters. Even in many of the weaker kaiju eiga, there is at least some form of quirk, or sense of fun to keep the brain from drifting off too far, but in the case of Latitude Zero, everything is set up at the most basic level. It's so much so that one wonders how these two forces have kept any conflict going for as long as they have without killing each other numerous times. There's an almost Spy Vs. Spy logic happening here that could easily have been made into something both sly and hilarious, but played straight, is a poisonous mix. In many ways, the film feels like an extended, leisurely trailer, punctuated by a cool submarine shot, or a laugh-inducing monster. But we'll get back to that in a second.

Another egregiously awkward theme running throughout the film is a streak of philosophical defiance that the film goes out of its way to never back up. In here's it can easily be summed up with: everything the American journalist decries or opines-is wrong. As Mr. Lawton is taking photos, and investigating the no-want laden society that Mackenzie and company inhabit, it is made clear that the world he comes from is not only technologically slow to lead, but ideologically flawed. His questioning as to why the people of L.Zero have no desires, or grievances with leadership, Mackenzie's responses are often defiant to the point of smug. Now granted, to challenge ideas in film is potentially exciting, but when there's no depth to the declarations presented, it merely comes off as pompous, and ultimately shoehorned into the film. And as the script already has problems establishing character, things like this truly make the film feel off. So yeah, the individualistic, aggressive cowboy in Lawton is made to be something of an object of ridicule- which is later attempted to be the film's thematic "cornerstone", only to fall apart through an incredibly goofy finale. Silly blonde-haired, blue-eyed idealist! This'll show you! This is perhaps the most ambitious element in the film, and yet is completely bungled.


But we don't come to this film for any kind of philosophical debate, we come for the action and effects, to which I say only works in regards to the expected Tsuburaya miniatures and pyrotechnics. But when it comes to the wild and wacky creatures that appear once our heroes invade the baddie's stronghold, things just go from weird to outright laughably bad. When it comes to giant rats, fine, but once the quivering bat people come in, all bets are off for the viewers. Among the other highlight creations, my personal favorite was Malic's lion experiment involving the brain of one of his subordinates(in a bonehead move to end all bonehead moves) transferred into the beast, and then given wings(!!!) This griffin puppet must simply be seen to be fully comprehended. Thankfully, this creature doesn't get taken out by our heroes, and naturally becomes the film's desperately last second deus ex-machina-cum-disaster. If the film hasn't killed any remaining attention spans, this development alone makes the last minutes worth watching. The look of horror on the face of Cesar Romero is priceless (and possibly telling?).

And, no, I haven't even gone into the existence of the blonde Doctor Barton(Linda Haynes), and the burly Koubou, the Alpha's second in command who's only dialogue consists of "Hai kanchou!" (Japanese for "Yes, chief!"). And also no mention of Captain Kuroi's inexplicable crush on Malic, and Lucretia's seething jealousy. AND let's seriously not go into the sudden, tonally schizophrenic montage of real world imagery of world strife, and carnage near the end. The film as a whole simply feels like a classic case in both sides not completely being comfortable with each other, so some may see this, and take this as an excuse for some campy fun. It's just too bad that the film never runs with it. And this is possibly where Honda's talents might ot have made the best mix. Language barrier is one thing (the japanese actors did their best with what they had, having learned their lines phonetically), but cultural barriers are clearly a factor here. Latitude Zero, if nothing else is a good reminder of how far things have come since then, but also of how much more effort both sides must make in order to come out with a memorable, effective product.

At least we can be happy with moments like these as a reminder?

Taking On The Ultimate Monster Question...

Roughly a week and a half ago, Infant Island partner Jenny and I went right ahead and dove head on into the depths of a great mystery, and came up with one truly fun podcast for everyone to enjoy. This is one that from the creation of the Adventures podcast, I had been longing to gather data from, and it is at long last here.

Whether it be Toho's beloved behemoth, or Daiei's champion to children, there's no denying the simple power of a good giant monster film, so we decided to take them both on, with interesting results. I may have a growing affection for these films of an era long past, but hearing about them through new eyes is what it's all about.

So who wins out in the ultimate kaiju battle?

Find out here!